I would think love simple:
there is a siege & we overtake
with the sun in our eyes,
blue blurs against the grey.
we, on the defensive,
corrode with waves
& sing of a romance
holy & divine,
wear seashells on our collarbones
and bathe in the frigid spray of seafoam.
we taste salt & love the tide pools,
swim down when the moon is low
to coral & bone.
we drape ourselves in seaweed & fins,
kiss underneath bubbles
and with our knuckles, we give offerings
of jet black bruises and whitened grips
when the currents test our fate
& pull apart at the place where her wrist
& my fingers met.
